


American (Pas de) Deux

by ClaireFisher



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Ballet, Dance partners, Episode: s02e01 American Duos, F/M, Pas de deux, Romance, Shout - Tears For Fears, Shules, dance lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29664507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireFisher/pseuds/ClaireFisher
Summary: Still, Juliet wouldn’t admit that there was a tiny part of her heart very disappointed that, despite it all, Shawn didn't trust her enough to tell her this little secret of his past.Episode 02x01: American Duos
Relationships: Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	American (Pas de) Deux

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm back with another fanfic that belongs to the series Words In Between, which consists of extensions of my short stories posted in my multi-chap fic All Seasons With You.
> 
> This one was a request made by aphrodisiacal_danascully. I hope this fits your wishes and expectations ;) This turned out a bit longer than I predicted, but I hope it wasn't that bad. 
> 
> This takes place in between scenes of the ep 02x01. Fingers crossed it was, somehow, fitting to this ep and the show!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and please leave a comment! I'll love to hear your opinion, suggestions, or anything else you feel like to say ;)  
> Work Text:

_ “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight.”  _

_ Nocturne op 9 by Chopin filled the broad room, the soft melody of the piano interrupted by the sound of pointe shoes hitting the linoleum floor, in perfect sync, amplifying the echo and vibration on the cream walls.  _

_ “Tendu! One, two, three, four. Piqué sous! Hop on those feet! Straighten those legs! Pirouet! Plié! Single turn!”  _

_ Mrs. Grant’s voice reverberated in Juliet’s mind, and she thought it couldn’t pound less, but at each instruction, more she felt lost in her moves. This was getting too hard and too tiring, and after being there for almost two hours nonstop, with the prospect of another two, she was very tempted at running through the front door and never coming back. _

_ This was all her mom’s fault.  _

**_“Go Julie Bean, you’re gonna love it! You’re natural. You’re gonna be the Prima Ballerina one day.”_ **

_ Yeah! A great way of convincing a five years old of things she might not accomplish. Only for the pleasure of her mom having photos of her little girl dressed in cute outfits. _

_ Well, sure, little Juliet enjoyed her first class, and the prospects of being a dancer, a beautiful ballerina, so much so that she kept going on, one class after the other, advancing levels and excelling them with the same grace and easiness she did in any other area of her life.  _

_ But as she grew up, the demand, physical and mental, of the ballet started to drain her energy up and, if anything, served only to highlight the decisions she had made regarding her career path and the profession she desired to pursue.  _

_ She didn’t see the point in attending those classes any longer, now that she was determined to be the youngest Detective the Miami PD has ever had. At her young age, Juliet was already on the trail of preparing for physical training and planning her admission letters and application forms. Not to mention the research and studies she was doing for the D.E.T. 's exam, which was, even more, a distant reality than her college admission.  _

_ “Juliet O’Hara! Would you care to actually dance in my class? Not present those half-baked moves?” _

_ The entire class stopped, everyone, looking at her while Juliet blushed, head down as she nodded discreetly, embarrassed by the commotion she just caused. _

_ Only two more hours. _

_ “Turnout! First position! And one, two, three, four…” _

“Five, six, seven, and eight!”

After her stern lecture, Juliet pushed her training, even more, not pausing once, losing track of time and energy put on the movements, until she’s so caught up in the teaching and dancing that she didn’t notice Shawn and Gus stopping, ceasing their attempts at following her for the past few minutes.

The lack of muttering and complaining brought her back from her rendezvous on the memory lane, back to the Psych office, the radio blasting  _ Shout _ on repeat for the past hour. She turned to face the psychic and his sidekick, not that she believed Gus would appreciate being called that, to find them panting, profusely sweating, large damp spots on their shirts while they rest their hands on their knees, supporting the weight of their bodies, too beaten up by Juliet’s crazy dancing routine. 

“What are you doing? Com’ on!”

Her eyes glistened under the light, sharp, just like in the first round they stopped, and that had been almost forty minutes ago. Although her speech was motivational, or better, scary enough to put both boys in line, now it was doing little to keep them going in the face of their tiredness and Gus’ irritation. 

She kept clapping her hands, not really aware that she was doing it, missing her students' faces wincing at the pitch noise it made, while she kept stressing that they should get going.

“I thought you said you wanted to win it! Don’t you? DON’T YOU?”

“J-Jules. We-we’ve to stop.”

Shawn dabbed his arm in his forehead, trying to dry out some of the sweat piling up there, scared of what all that exercising was doing with his perfect hair, momentarily trying to ignore his lovely lady friend’s feisty eyes which, in his dreams, held such different emotions towards him.

“Stop? No! We need to go again! From the top! I want to see perfection!”

Her voice echoed in the office, now that she had paused the song again and, for the first time in his life, Shawn realized  _ Shout _ might be out of his playlist after today. He hoped that Curt Smith would forgive him. His side started to cramp and, bending in his overdramatic way, Shawn grabbed it, gasping.

“J-Jules, my kidney. Agh”

Rolling her eyes, she put her hands in her waist, which Shawn would make sure to remark how adorable it was if he wasn’t so tired, and Jules wasn’t in her undercover mode, which, from the only time he attested it, was utterly scary. 

Alice Bundy could say the same. 

Not that Shawn blamed Jules, though. Alice was the one possessed all along. But he shook these memories out of his mind. It was never good to stay under that much boiling anger for too long, especially for Shawn. He wasn’t sure what he was capable of doing to protect the ones he cares about.

“That’s your spleen, Shawn.”

He glared at her, deciding to ignore this last comment when another wave of sharp pain flooded through his side.

Gus, on the other hand, seemed physically fine but clearly overstressed. And Gus was never good at dealing with stressful situations and Juliet's bossy posture, which Shawn could only say was very hot, just served to bring Gus to his cranky-toddler mood. 

Snatching his towel from his desk, pushed aside to open a dance space, Gus dried his face and threw the fabric back at the furniture, forcefully, not bearing those classes any longer. 

“That’s it! I’m out of here!”

Shawn turned on his spot, staring at his buddy with frightened eyes.

“Gus! Don’t.”

“I’m leaving, Shawn! I don’t need this. I was a junior tap dancer champion. Twice. I can win this thing alone if I want to.”

Shawn backed a step, surprised and astonished by the never his best friend had, while scared that he would be left there alone. In other moments he would be thrilled to be in a room, alone, with Juliet O’Hara but, right now, as he felt her eyes boiling a hole in his neck, Shawn much rather have Gus for support and as a human shield. 

After all, Jules carried a gun.

In hushed whispers, Shawn dragged his friend a few steps to the side, muttering and whining, while Gus responded to him with equal complaints, crossing his arms like a child while stomping his feet just slightly. 

But in the end, despite Shawn’s sweet talk and bribery, Gus left without looking back, slamming the door after him on the exit. 

Shawn kept staring at it for a few seconds, promising himself to plan something to get back at Gus for this betrayal of their friendship.

“So, he quit?”

Jules’ voice brought him back and, slowly, Shawn turned to face her, features inquiring him while she kept her hand still in their position on her waist, giving her the perfect moody teenager pose he couldn't help but smirk at.

“Well, you know Gus. That stressed silly goose.”

For a split second, Shawn worried Juliet might feel hurt for Gus’ departure, but she just shrugged her shoulders, seeming unaffected. 

“Oh, well. Just his loss. Besides, he isn’t the one who needs these classes anyways.”

Bringing his hands to his chest, Shawn stared shocked at his blond friend.

“Jules! How can you?”

But she just grinned back.

“It’s true. So let’s get back. From the top.”

“No, Jules…”

“Stop whining, Shawn.”

“Let me just…” - He needed a way out and, fortunately, he spotted his bathroom door just in time, remembering the packed bag he kept there in case of an emergency or zombie attack. - “Let me just change my shirt, okay? Then we can keep with this maniac Geller routine.”

Before Juliet could reply, Shawn was already locked inside the room, so she just sighed and, using that little break, took her time to breathe in and organize her thoughts, which, until then, were solely focused on training those ungifted dancers. 

But now, at the solitude of the semi-empty office, silent and, in some sense, calm, her mind started to bring to front all her suppressed thoughts featuring a certain psychic and his attractive physic, his endearing smile, and how she couldn't help but blush each time she noticed his eyes longing on her more than the necessary. 

And she wanted to giggle and spin around, feeling those familiar butterflies beginning to flutter in her stomach, but she had to suppress all that. It was dangerous. She couldn’t be that vulnerable near Shawn. 

She wasn’t a sick-in-love teen and those attitudes weren’t fit for the skilled and professional cop she was. No, Juliet O’Hara was tough, and collected, and wouldn’t let herself be deceived by perfect gelled brown hair and charming smiles. 

Pacing around, she stopped in front of the radio, fumbling with the buttons while she wondered what was taking Shawn so long. As she pressed different colorful keys, she discovered that CD had more range of songs than she ever thought Shawn could appreciate. A lot of ’80s was there, obviously, but the genres varied on a large range, making Juliet feel like she was opening a forbidden book.

She was about to step away and leave  _ Shout _ prepared for her next attempt at teaching Shawn the choreography when her ears caught a familiar tune and, instantly, she was dragged by vivid memories of her ballerina days.

Chopin filled the small place, awakening her muscles, which automatically started to pick up the pace on the movements once vigorously trained, printed in her memory and body. Stronger than her, Juliet started to move around, at first timider, still aware of her surroundings, but as the song progressed, her senses started to shut down and she was engrossed in the remembrance of days where she was nothing more than a cop trapped inside a ballerina. 

She missed out on how Shawn, standing by the door frame of the bathroom, kept watching her move, his sharp eyes glued on each new step, a wave of the arm, twist of the feet. Mental pictures he would cherish and relieve for long hours, despite his best efforts. 

Silently, he approached Juliet, scared of how fast his heart was thumping inside his ribcage, not sure of what he was going to do, but certain that he had to see her closely, had to admire the delicacy trapped inside her stern posture and collected face while under duty. 

Juliet made a turn, her feet moving on their own, and before she could stop she collided with a person standing in front of her, which took her a few seconds to realize it was Shawn, with mesmerizing eyes never leaving her.

The memory was broken and Jules was back inside that place, hands still resting on Shawn’s chest while she steadied herself enough to step away, but before she could, Shawn grasped her hand, positioning his arm around her waist lightly but, surprisingly, in the correct way.

She felt her entire body tremble, and even in her deepest attempts, she couldn't hide it from Shawn, from whom she was already expecting a tease or snort remark. But he seemed just as affected by their proximity as her.

“Shawn…”

Juliet wanted to say more, to ask why he was doing that, to put space and boundaries between them, but her body was only capable of breathing out his name before she felt him gently leading her on the pace of the song, feet moving along with hers in perfect synch.

Although Shawn came out with a clean shirt, his skin was still littered with beams of sweat, and the heat was leaving his body in waves, causing him to resemble much a furnace, leaving Juliet, who was already hot, flushed both by the warmness and the continuing to decrease space between them.

She’s just as drenched, mascara previously barely smudged now forming large black spots under her eyes, to which she tried to wipe out, conscious of how it may look, but improving its appearance only slightly, causing Shawn to smirk at the panda eyes she had now that the black ink was spread above her eyelids. 

But, if she thought it diminished her beautiful appearance, for Shawn it only served to bring out more the blue in her eyes, popping and shining with feisty determination and some underlaid feeling he couldn't quite pinpoint, not sure if it was just pure adrenaline causing her body to shudder lightly or their proximity, still at some respectable distance, but a lot closer than they have ever been before. 

He could read in her face the anxiety, new feelings coming to the surface at each passing second, causing him to wonder if he’s being that transparent too, not doubting that Juliet might be reading all his inner thoughts with the same easiness he usually can read hers. 

Past the initial shock and stiffness their first contact brought to both, the pair started to move around more loosely, daring to admit that they were starting to relax in each other’s embrace, the muscles less rigid and movement flowing more easily, skillful and gracious, turning their awkward movements in well-executed ones.

Shawn laced his fingers on hers, his grip firm on her hand as he led them to those movements Juliet once executed with sharp precision, never missing a count, not faulting a step. Mrs. Grant’s voice started to echo in her head, loud and clear, causing Juliet to strengthen her posture, enlarging her neck.

_ Like a swan, Juliet!  _

But the more she moved around the office, the father her former teacher’s voice screamed in her head. Instead, her body started to unwind and perceive where it touched Shawn’s, the parts of their clammy skin that were in contact. She could feel his breath come out in soft puffs, caressing her neck, and even if worn out, she could still smell traces of his cologne impregnating the air around her.

If wasn’t for the memory carved in her body, the movements tireless done over the years, Juliet wouldn’t know how she was dancing in the first place, because it was getting hardly impossible to concentrate while there, so close to Shawn, lead by him and those dexterous movements, still in the process of shocking her.

Where had he learned to dance like that? 

That precision, those steps, it takes years of practice and hard work. It demands control of your body that, apparently, Shawn couldn’t possess, not with the moves he showed her when they first started their dance lesson that afternoon. 

If he could dance like that, why did he ask for lessons anyway?

She was aware, vaguely, that Gus was into tap dancing when young and that Shawn, like the mature adult he is, would make sure to mock his best friend at any given opportunity, especially in front of Juliet, and take the best advantage of that secret talent of Burton Guster, who wouldn’t be ashamed of it if wasn’t for the years enduring Shawn’s complaints about it.

So it was obvious that Gus was a lot more capable of accomplishing the movements and actually following Juliet’s instructions. But Shawn had been nothing but a big disaster. It was a miracle he made it to the end of the song without hurting himself.

Part of her asked why he would lie about something like that, while the other knew just why. Knowing Shawn for about a year now, mindful of some stories of his past and having met his father on a few occasions, there was a zero percent chance that, even if Shawn was a brilliant dancer, he would feel proud of it or his father would accept it open-hearted. She wouldn’t be surprised if young Shawn would sneak out of his house or whatever other place to take classes. 

Still, Juliet wouldn’t admit that there was a tiny part of her heart very disappointed that, despite it all, Shawn didn't trust her enough to tell her this little secret of his past. But, well, she had lied too, so she couldn’t blame him much. At first, when Shawn said he “sensed” she could dance, Jules felt her blood freeze, because, honestly, she wasn’t that interested in reviving those painful years of piqués and grand jetes, pliés, and pointed shoes. Not to mention what that could cause to her image.

She had barely settled in the Department, not a year there yet, still in the process of building up her name there, earning people's recognition, respect and trust. If they happened to know about that little past detail, what could they think? Would it affect how people looked at her?

Would affect how Shawn looked at her?

He would make fun enough of Gus and his tap past, wouldn't he do the same with her? 

Not that she cared about Shawn's opinion, at all. 

If she ended up accepting his offer to teach them how to dance, it had nothing to do with the fact that he said his heart vibes were jammed. No. This was purely professional, to help two friends with their investigations, to protect an undercover mission and a secret identity. 

No green eyes, nor an exasperated face, nor a charming grin had anything to do with her final decision.

After all, Juliet O’Hara was a cop, focused and determined, doing her job. 

But as Shawn kept holding her so close, his beautiful eyes, mysterious and mischievous, seeming to inspect every inch of her face, all her resolutions were melting away, all her questions evaporating in the warm air. All that mattered was that Shawn was there, spinning her around, his firm grip around her waist giving her the entire support she needed, being the perfect  _ danseur _ to accompany her on that  _ pas de deux _ . 

Slowly the music started to fade, coming to its halting end in a strong note, laud enough to bring both from their floating state and outer dimension, to inside the quarters of the Psych office, to the reality of Santa Barbara, and to realize the position they were in, how close they were now, Shawn’s arms around her waist as she rested her back on his chest, his chin practically on her shoulder, his panting breathing caressing her ear.

The previous pleasant touch became fire and in a quick move, while cleaning their throats, both stepped away, putting some respectable distance between them again, Juliet fixing her ponytail while Shawn found a momentary entertainment in the carpet. 

It took a few moments for them to dare and look at each other again. This time though, Juliet’s face carried all the questions she didn’t dare ask while they danced, shock and surprise fighting to occupy her features. 

“Where did you learn how to dance like that?”

She was still mind blown, not comprehending how could Shawn, restless and agitated, with little control of his body and way too clumsy to stand still and watch, could have learned a dance whose primary fundament was discipline, calmness, and delicacy, traits Juliet would never address her psychic friend. 

Shawn shrugged his shoulders, some timidness coating his face, new and endearing, allowing Jules to see a different side of him that, by what she could interpret from it, he never showed to anyone, causing her heart to swell about things she couldn't understand yet. 

“I’ve worked at a dance company in Tallahassee for a few months. They couldn't afford to pay a full salary, so part of it I was paid in dance lessons.” 

“And you took them?”

She couldn't imagine how his life was back then, on the road, accepting any job he could get. Often Juliet wanted to ask Shawn about it, dead curious to know what it was like to live in that type of freedom and detachment, but never sure if, asking him about it, would strike a nerve or wound he didn't wish to revisit. 

Blushing, a reaction Juliet never thought she would see coming from the carefree, easy-going Shawn Spencer, he ducked his face slightly, almost mumbling his words. 

“The Prima Ballerina was hot and she was my instructor so…”

“Oh.”

Her eyes rounded and Juliet didn’t know what to do with his answer, or how she felt about it really, after all, they were friends, right? Just that, and Shawn was a player, always has been, she knew that much. So, no reason to feel anything, to care really. 

Therefore, Juliet resolutely ignored the heat flaming her heart at the thought that Shawn might have held another girl the same way he did right there with her, and this thought solely was enough to bring back her composure and harden her mushy heart.

“Well, I guess it’s a wrap-up for today.”

“Huh… Y-yeah. You’re right.”

Caught out of guard by Juliet’s sharp tone, Shawn understood that, maybe, that all was too much, he stepped a line that shouldn’t have been crossed and, no matter how much he wanted to kiss her right there and right now, he knew that he couldn’t do it. 

Juliet had been the only girl who Shawn wouldn't' dare to overstep a boundary, wouldn't push his luck.

So he watched her pack her things haphazardly, rushing her way out, just stopping at the door to wave him a short goodbye and vanish to her car. Silent acknowledgment passing between both that they would never talk about that moment. Never.

Only in the security of her car Juliet allowed herself to actually process what had just happened and relish all the pent-up feelings in her heart, letting her body shudder and drift at the heavenly sensation engulfing it, unnamed and unknown, but deep and endearing. For just a few seconds not sternly lecturing herself about how stupid she was being for letting Shawn and his charm deceive her so easily.

As for Shawn, he had never appreciated Gus that much than right there, which reminded him to just maybe, reconsider his plotted revenge against his best friend while he secretly thanked Mrs. Florence Grant forever giving him a job at her recently relocated dance company all those years ago. 

  
  



End file.
